


Wildflower

by Selestiles



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 08:16:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18426630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selestiles/pseuds/Selestiles
Summary: You think your scars are ugly, a sign of weakness. Steve thinks that’s bullshit.





	Wildflower

For you, dealing with a bad day meant more than just flopping onto the bed and playing a movie.

You hated it, how every single little thing that went wrong made your eyes sting with ridiculous tears of frustration at yourself.

How could you be so weak? You literally lived in a tower full of people who had been dragged kicking and screaming all the way through hell, they had come out the other side as warriors and badasses.

Their scars meant strength. Yours, however, meant weakness.

You shouldn’t be feeling like this, you knew it was unfair that you were feeling like this. It had just been a bad day. Everyone here was so strong and you were crumbling at the first gust of strong wind.

You had retreated early from dinner, kissing Steve’s cheek and hoping he wouldn’t follow you to your room until later. Until you had had a chance to calm the fuck down. You had sat on the bed numbly, turned off all the lights and played some music on your phone to try and drown out the voices of your screaming mind. The dark usually helped, the music usually helped.

And yet the tips of your fingers were tingling, the hairs on the back of your neck were standing up and your tongue felt weirdly heavy in your mouth. You tried breathing deeply, counting to five before letting go. Your eyes stung almost painfully and your throat felt like it was closing up.

You knew what would help. But you couldn’t do that to yourself anymore, couldn’t do that to Steve. You had to stop using pain as some kind of sick crutch.

You flexed your fingers as your mind started screaming louder. This wasn’t just a bad day, you were falling into your head again, your chest constricted painfully and your heart stuttered before starting to pound harder. You felt like your brain had started pressing against your skull.

You fumbled with your phone until you could turn off the music and yanked your earbuds out, panting heavily into the darkness of the room.

You went to stand up, your whole body vibrating with the force of your brain’s command to hurt yourself. Your hand gripped your arm tightly, your own nails digging into the scarred skin.

“Y/N?”

Even though Steve had spoken softly, probably thinking you were asleep, you jumped about a foot in the air. The sliver of light coming from the hallway hit you directly, making you look even more like a deer caught in headlights.

Steve turned on the light and his eyes immediately scanned you before settling on your arm, still gripped tightly, with a burning concern.

“Did you…” he couldn’t finish his sentence, but you knew what he meant. You shook your head no, still frozen in place.

He let out a small sigh of relief, but the worry didn’t leave his expression. He advanced slowly to you and gripped your shoulders firmly, grounding you, before sitting back on the bed with you.

You were tucked under his arm, and he was warm and smelled amazing, you took a deep breath, feeling drained and exhausted.

“What happened?” He whispered into your hair. You fiddled with a loose thread on his shirt before answering.

“I don’t even know what’s wrong” you both ignored the way your voice shook and wobbled pathetically “I just feel horrible and… I can’t stop thinking about it” you took a breath, then let it out as a growl of frustration. “I don’t know Steve, I shouldn’t be feeling like this” you sat up straight “you shouldn’t have to comfort me.”

He frowned down at you and turned so he could face you directly. “Why not? I’m your boyfriend Y/N, and I want to comfort you” he ran a finger over your scars, barely touching the thin lines of puckered skin.

“You shouldn’t have to” you insist, looking down at your arm so you don’t have to look at his face “I’m weak” you whisper, but he hears you, of course he does.

His reaction is immediate, he springs up from the bed, running a hand through his hair and your heart lurches. You follow him with your eyes as he crosses the room and looks for something on your desk.

He comes back a moment later, his hair still ruffled, and sits in front of you again. You don’t speak, and he doesn’t either. He just grabs your wrist delicately in his big hands and places your arm on his lap. You watch him carefully as he takes out the pen he just grabbed and places it between his lips thoughtfully.

He starts drawing then. He starts with a small, delicate wildflower, then another one, then another one. He draws leaves and flowers and buds and branches, most of them starting from the thin scars on your wrist so that it looks like they are coming out of your skin.

He finishes and takes your hand in his, pressing his thumb to your palm and bringing your arm to his lips to place a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

“You’re not weak Y/N”

You start crying then, big, fat tears rolling down your face with no way of stopping them. You look at the flowers on your arm and understand. Thy are physical scars from a battle that happened only inside your head. They mean you fought.

Steve holds you close, curled up against him as you cry silently.

“It’s okay darling, you’re okay” he whispers, it’s not true. But it feels like it can be. That’s enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr @soopranatural


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